


Les MiStarTrekables

by definitivelysarah



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Oh My God, Other, Star Trek - Freeform, Star Trek: TOS, all of the characters will appear, i am writing this at work, les mis/star trek crossover, so you will get very much, star trek crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:45:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitivelysarah/pseuds/definitivelysarah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Star Trek!Les Mis au, set in the Star Trek universe. Enjolras is Captain of the U.S.S. Patria. He and his crew boldly go where no one has gone before.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Character Reference List

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and i tried but i dont know how well the characterization and plot turned out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lists characters by Name, Race/Species, Rank (if they are a Starfleet Officer) and job (if they serve on board the Patria)

Name/race/rank/job

Enjolras/Vulcan-Human male/Captain/Captain                 Basically a blend of Kirk and a Vulcan??

Combeferre/Bajoran male/Commander/Science Officer        Basically Combeferre

Courfeyrac/white Human male/Lieutenant/Navigator         Basically Will Riker but Courfeyrac, so, animated and energetic

Prouvaire/black Human male/Lieutenant/Communications         Jehan with dreads *swoons*

Joly/white Human male/Commander/Doctor                         

Bossuet/bald Eurasian gene mix Human male/Ensign/???                Bossuet as a !Redshirt! hahahaha bad luck

Bahorel/Klingon-Human female/Commander/Head of Security            Basically Worf, but as a girl, and a much better shot (Worf is a terrible shot)

Feuilly/ginger white Human male/Commander/Head of Engineering           Basically Geordi, but FEUILLY !!

Grantaire/Betazoid-Human male/Commander/Ship's Counselor            Like Troi but in love with the Captain instead of the First Officer

Marius/white Human male/Ensign/I dunno what he does yet            I wanted a Wesley Crusher character and poor Marius is just perfect

 Eponine/Ferengi female/Ensign/Security

I'll edit this after more characters are introduced but like

Thenardier as a Ferengi

think about that

 

 

 


	2. The Patria goes to pick up a new crew member and gets some fugitives instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Show communication on screen.” Enjolras ordered.  
> A human man was holding an unconscious human teenage girl in his arms.   
> “My name is Jean Valjean. I seek asylum for myself and my daughter on board your ship.” The old man gasped.  
> There was a noise of surprise from Lieutenant Commander Courfeyrac.   
> “Captain, I know the girl! She’s Ensign Marius’…I know her, Enjolras!” said Courfeyrac emphatically.

Enjolras sat in his ready room, deep in the Vulcan contemplation pose, vaguely registering the stars going by at warp outside his window. He had shut himself in here after the ship was on a course for Musain IV, the planet officially registered for student vacations from Starfleet Academy. Unofficially, it was host to a variety of seedy businesses, a thriving illegal alcohol trade (simuhol was the legal version), and, of course, students. Marius, a recent graduate of Starfleet, was Courfeyrac’s old roommate and his best friend, and was signing on to the U.S.S Patria as an ensign. Enjolras had heard many things about the boy-boy, though Marius was barely four years younger than Enjolras himself, who at 22 was the youngest captain of a starship ever in all of Federation history, younger even than James T. Kirk himself.

A chime from the computer interrupted his contemplation. Commander Combeferre stepped into the room. Combeferre was a Bajoran who graduated first in their class at the Academy. Enjolras had been second, of course, and was only outranked by Combeferre because of the Bajoran’s penchant to spend more time at the study terminals than any other student at the Academy.

“Captain.” Combeferre inclined his head in a bow.

“Commander.” Enjolras acknowledged his presence with a trace of unVulcanlike warmth.

“We are approaching the Musain IV system. Would you like to greet our new Ensign in his quarters, or later tonight at the welcome dinner?” Combeferre asked in his accented, lilting English. He refused to use the universal translator because it translated Bajoran into flowery, poetic English, preferring to learn the language instead so he could ensure correct communication.

“Why don’t we let him get settled in first, and I shall attend his welcome dinner tonight? That is the logical choice. Inform the Bridge crew that it is a dress occasion.” Enjolras answered, tapping his fingertips together.

“Understood, Captain.” Combeferre clasped his hands behind his back, inclining his head again. Enjolras regarded him for a moment.

“Number One, may I request your advice on something?” Enjolras said.

Another nod from Combeferre, and Enjolras continued, “I am unsure about Ensign Marius being assigned to the Patria. His lack of experience coupled with his political opinions causes me to believe he would not be the best fit. What do you think?”

“I think…” Combeferre began.

The voice of Lieutenant Prouvaire cut short what Combeferre thought.

“Captain, we are being hailed! A shuttle on our port side is requesting access to the shuttle bay, code red!”

“Understood.” Enjolras stated. He exited the ready room on Combeferre’s heels.

“Show communication on screen.” Enjolras ordered.

A human man was holding an unconscious human teenage girl in his arms.

“My name is Jean Valjean. I seek asylum for myself and my daughter on board your ship.” The old man gasped.

There was a noise of surprise from Lieutenant Commander Courfeyrac.

“Captain, I know the girl! She’s Ensign Marius’…I know her, Enjolras!” said Courfeyrac emphatically.

“Captain, life support on that shuttle is failing rapidly! Permission to beam the passengers to sick bay.” Prouvaire exclaimed.

“Permission granted. Courfeyrac, come with me to sick bay. Let’s see if we can’t find out who these people are,” Enjolras said, striding to the turbolift beside his ready room, “And, Commander Combeferre, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.” Responded Combeferre tacitly as the turbolift doors closed on Enjolras and Courfeyrac.

“Computer, take us to Sick Bay. Courfeyrac, you say Pontmercy knows the girl?” Enjolras queried.

“Captain, Pontmercy was…well, he was obsessed with her. There’s no other way to put it. Do you remember how he used to skip our Student Protest meetings when he was a freshman at Starfleet? It was to be with her.”

“So our new Ensign was involved with the girl we just rescued? This seems so illogical.”

“I know it seems fantastical, but it’s true. He was infatuated with her and terrified of her father.”

“The old man?” Enjolras looked at Courfeyrac sharply.

“Yes, the old man is her father. I’ve never met him, but I hear he’s a formidable opponent in feats of strength.”

Enjolras filed this new information away in his mental catalogue, editing his understanding of this man. But whoever he had been several years ago, he was now on the run, and had to be given the same treatment as any other asylum-seeker.

“Arriving at Sick Bay,” chimed the computer as the doors opened to the familiar organized chaos that was Doctor Joly’s sick bay.

The Doctor was delighted to have a new patient, scanning the man with a tricorder enthusiastically. Enjolras noticed that no doctors were near the girl, who lay on a bed, looking positively radiant.

“Jean Valjean, I am Captain Enjolras and you are on the U.S.S. Patria. Can you tell me what happened to you before you hailed our ship?”

The man shifted on the bed, and Joly tutted, pushing him to lie back in his former position.

“Captain Enjolras, I would prefer to discuss my circumstances more privately.” Valjean said, his voice gravelly and his English perfect.

Enjolras nodded. “That can be arranged. As soon as you and your daughter are in good health you will be moved to your own quarters. But before we discuss anything further, I must ask: Is anyone else in the Federation aware of your current location?”

Valjean chuckled softly. “No, we are all alone out here.”

Enjolras walked over to where the rest of the medical team was bustling around, caring for other patients and preparing serums and treatments.

“All personnel please vacate Sick Bay except for Joly, Courfeyrac, and me.” Enjolras announced to the room. The hubbub slowly died down as the medical staff filed out of the main sick bay area. Once his requests had been complied with, Valjean spoke again.

“Thank you, Captain. It is not often I am shown such…kindness.”

“It is only logical that we would offer you sanctuary when you are in danger and on our ship are the resources you require.” Enjolras stated. Valjean smiled and took Enjolras’ delicate hand between his two mammoth ones. He began,

“Now, as for myself, I will tell you all you need to know and anything you may want to know, but I must request you do not attempt to learn anything about my daughter.

I am Jean Valjean, citizen of the Federation. I am..well, I was…the governor of the Montreil-sur-Mer system in the West sector. I was falsely accused of a crime, and had to flee for my daughter’s safety and my own.”

Enjolras exchanged a glance with Courfeyrac--who surreptitiously began a computer search on a handheld device--then interjected, “Sir, your daughter, she must be examined by our medical staff. It is not only for her health and safety, but also for the safety of my crew. We must ensure she is not carrying any illnesses or infections.”

“She is in perfect health. She is only sleeping. I have forbidden your doctors to point their instruments at her. I assure you, she poses no danger to the crew. No doubt your transporter readings will confirm this.” Valjean said brusquely, dropping Enjolras’ hand and turning his head to look at his daughter. The girl was indeed sleeping peacefully, seeming to almost radiate light. Enjolras felt a buzz of intuition, as if the man was concealing something important.

“Will she wake up?” Enjolras asked.

“She will awaken by tomorrow afternoon, and she is to be kept in privacy,” Valjean replied, “I gave her a sleeping medication on the shuttle. Our life support failed as soon as we entered the Musain IV system, but before we were within range of the planet itself. I nearly had to put her in stasis, to improve her chances of survival. By some miracle, your ship appeared shortly after I put her to sleep.”

“It is lucky we were in the area. What were you doing in the system itself? Musain IV is a long way from Montreil-sur-Mer.”

“That, Captain….is my business.” Valjean closed his eyes and wouldn’t say another word.

After confirming that Valjean was asleep, Enjolras left the man’s bedside to confer with Joly, who was busily entering information in a medical terminal, and Courfeyrac, who was reading information about Valjean from the Federation records.

“From what he told me, I’d surmise he’s a fugitive. He says he was falsely accused, but we must access the records to know for sure. But whatever may have happened, he and the girl would have died had we not been there.” Enjolras said.

 “That’s right, Captain,” Joly said, “He was near death by asphyxiation when we beamed him up here. His daughter appeared healthy enough, but there was something strange about her. The transporter almost couldn’t lock onto her pattern, wouldn’t recognize it as….human.” All three men turned to look at the girl.

“That wouldn’t be because of interference, we aren’t near enough Musain IV to encounter any.” Courfeyrac put in.

“No, it’s more like, she’s not a life form that the computer recognizes.” Joly clarified, rubbing the end of his nose, a tic he had developed over the years.

“Whatever the cause, we do need to find out more about them. I’m going to call a meeting with us three, Bahorel, Combeferre, and Grantaire in two hours,” said Enjolras decisively.

“Shall I page them, Captain?” Courfeyrac asked.

“Combeferre and Bahorel, you can tell on your way out of here and back to the bridge. I’ll tell Grantaire myself. Joly, meet us in conference room 4B at 2100 hours.”

“Understood, Captain.” Joly and Courfeyrac said simultaneously.

“Computer, page Lieutenant Prouvaire,” Enjolras tapped his badge to open communications.

“Yes, Capatain, Prouvaire here,” came the reply.

“Send a transmission to Musain IV. Let our new ensign know we’re going to be a bit late picking him up tomorrow. And that he’ll have some questions to answer once he’s on board.” Enjolras said.

“But, Captain..” then Prouvaire remembered who he was talking to. “Understood.”

‘Now,’ Enjolras thought on his way to fetch Counselor Grantaire, ‘Let’s see what our visitor is really thinking.’


	3. Not all Ferengi are bad, and not all Klingons are gossips.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A Ferengi serving on board the Patria? Are you JOKING?” Bahorel’s voice rose above the babble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place several weeks after they pick up Valjean, and also way after they pick up Marius.

“A Ferengi serving on board the Patria? Are you JOKING?” Bahorel’s voice rose above the babble in the ship’s lounge. Several people threw curious glances his way, and he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Is it some kind of trickery? Ferengi are completely dishonorable! It is an abomination for a Klingon to work with one!”

“BAHOREL.” Courfeyrac’s voice was tinged with a warning. “Her name’s Eponine and she graduated from the Academy, same as the rest of us, but on scholarship. She’s going to be serving under you in Security. She’s very enthusiastic about it. Don’t let your prejudices overcome your rational thought, Bahorel.” Courfeyrac admonished, sipping his drink.

Bahorel slapped his palms on the table. “This has never happened before! The Ferengi are not exactly known for their desire to be part of Starfleet. What’s so different about this girl?” He demanded.

“When Starfleet notified me of her assignment, I was told that she came from a once-wealthy family called Thenardier. Apparently her father ruined them in a bad land deal, so she applied for the Academy to get away from the corruption and poverty.” Answered Courfeyrac.

“Big deal, why didn’t she just attend a Ferengi school? Why Starfleet?”

“Well…I’m not really supposed to talk about this, but…” Courfeyrac began.

“Stow it, Courf. If she’s serving under me, I have the right to know.” Bahorel insisted, rubbing his ridged forehead in frustration.

“Okay, okay! Do you remember our new ensign, Pontmercy?” Courfeyrac said in a low tone.

“Who could forget his clumsiness? Of course I remember him!” Bahorel exclaimed with a hearty laugh, remembering the incident only days after Marius’ arrival on the Patria. The boy—for he truly was only a boy—had mistakenly ordered 50,000 of something from the food replicator, then panicked, and pressed the button that sent the same order to other food replicators all over the ship.

“Well, they used to be….involved.” Courfeyrac divulged with a smirk, knowing Bahorel would not rest until he heard the whole story.

“I thought Pontmercy was hopelessly infatuated with that girl we picked up before him? What was her name—Cosette! He never mentioned any other girls. I thought him pure.” Bahorel admitted hesitantly.

Courfeyrac chortled. “No. Marius is as interested in sex as any of us. He just hides it better, though I have no idea why.”

“How did he know this Ferengi, this Eponine?” Bahorel asked. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he was extremely interested in people’s personal lives. Not for the purpose of judgment, because Bahorel honestly didn’t think judgmentally, but because he was genuinely curious about others. He liked to know people, how they think, why they make the choices they do, and the things that make them who they are. This was seen as “invasive” and “nosy” by many, but anyone who really knew Bahorel knew he was never malicious and never shared anyone’s secrets without explicit permission.

Courfeyrac finished his drink. “It all started back in the Academy. He was my neighbor for the first year, but after I graduated, he took a year off to travel the galaxy. His wanderings brought him to the Ferengi home world, where by some miracle he wasn’t swindled out of his savings. The miracle was that he didn’t have any savings. He was broke, living off of whatever money he made each day. One day, he was sitting on a bench, thinking about where to go next, and how to get there for the least money possible, when a girl sat down next to him.”

“It’s Eponine, right?” Bahorel assumed. His dark eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Shut up and let me tell the story.” Courfeyrac asserted, cuffing the Klingon on the arm.

Courfeyrac started again. “A girl sat next to him on the bench. She was exceptionally beautiful, by Ferengi standards, and Marius thought her beauty strange and alien, but pretty nonetheless.

“He thought, ‘Under different circumstances, she could be truly stunning.’

“The girl introduced herself and said she’d seen Marius around and that he seemed like he could use a friend. Marius stammered and stuttered before managing to utter an agreement. ‘Well, come on then!’ The girl, Eponine, said, and tugged him up off the bench and in the direction of the center for goods and services.

“Now, as you know, the Ferengi live by the Rules of Acquisition. Eponine was no exception, at that time. She saw Marius was starving and broke, so she helped him stay alive, through the only means she had. She taught Marius how to lie without giving himself away, how to steal what he needed without getting caught, and how to talk his way out of any situation, such as getting caught stealing or lying. She was a fireball, that girl, and Marius found himself attracted to her before long. He was not interested in romance, for such a concept was completely alien to him, pardon the pun. He wanted Eponine, and that was all. Eponine, being fiercely intelligent, was aware of his desire, and used it against him. I think she saw in him a life she might’ve known, had she been born a different race. She wanted to get away from the Ferengi, and Marius had plans to return to the Academy.”

“So she went with him.” Bahorel interrupted, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Indeed, she did. She planted the idea in his head, that he was leaving, and that his new friend could accompany him. It was rather brilliant, actually. And as soon as they were away from the Ferengi home world, she dropped all pretense of being dishonest. Marius was surprised, then elated. She wasn’t really a thief. She did what all Ferengi expected her to do, but in her heart she was honest and loyal. Her sly cunning was replaced by biting wit and resilience and creativity.”

“That is….most honorable. I am beginning to like this girl.” Bahorel declared.

“Yes, I knew you would, Bahorel. Even a Klingon has to be impressed with someone who grew up among liars and cheaters and still developed a sense of right and wrong.” Courfeyrac grinned at Bahorel, knowing his friend and this Eponine were going to have no problems getting along.

“But what happened to ‘her-and-Marius’? Wasn’t he angry at being lied to?” Bahorel asked.

“At first Marius was furious. But after Eponine explained her reasons, he understood. After all, Marius is no stranger to family dysfunction.” Courfeyrac replied, thinking of Marius’ disownment and subsequent plea for help from Courfeyrac.

“I see.” Bahorel said. “So when am I going to meet the infamous Eponine? I want to challenge her to a knife-throwing contest on the holodeck.”

“She should be arriving by shuttle any day now, actually. Enjolras will notify us of the welcome dinner. I’m sure she’ll be very interested in getting to know you. Now, let’s go find Grantaire. I want to have a drinking contest.” Courfeyrac announced.


End file.
